Current
A Perpetual Motion Engine of Anxiety and Self-Loathing
Bio
So there I am, in Sri Lanka, formerly Ceylon, at about 3 o'clock in the morning, looking for one thousand brown M&Ms to fill a brandy glass, or Ozzy wouldn't go on stage that night. So, Jeff Beck pops his head 'round the door, and mentions there's a little sweets shop on the edge of town. So - we go. And - it's closed. So there's me, and Keith Moon, and David Crosby, breaking into that little sweets shop, eh. Well, instead of a guard dog, they've got this bloody great big Bengal tiger. I managed to take out the tiger with a can of mace, but the shopowner and his son... that's a different story altogether. I had to beat them to death with their own shoes. Nasty business, really. But, sure enough, I got the M&Ms, and Ozzy went on stage and did a great show.
Also, I said last week I'd be putting in legwork on roll call, figuring out who was still here and on-board for the new year.
At this point the full PC Roster is:
Myself - David "Ward" Fermi @Skai - Haven "Swift" Barnes @Tackytaff - Sunita "Fold" Chauhan @Kuro - Natsumi "Chameleon" Collingwood (and the upcoming Quinn "Bumblebee" Tilles) @Lawful Newtral - Zelda "Zero" DiAngelo @Roman - Frederick (or Fritz, don't stab me bro) "Vorpal" Jackson (and the upcoming Poe "Wynd" Navidson) @Wei Wuxian - Seobin "Seo" Langston @mickilennial - Kaitlin "Photon" Langstraat @Qia - Sophia "Sunny" Montgomery @earthtogab - Sora "Spitfire" Moore @AlteredTundra - Skylar "Kyle" Vass
And we will be introducing @Mintz as Kaiden "Moth Man" Newman!
Hopefully, we can add your name here as well, @OldManMountain.
* As yet, I've been unable to get in touch with @Zoldyck, if that changes, then its an easy enough add (likewise @psych0pomp). But this present list is the latest.
Treat all other characters as NPCs (but do try to do so respectfully).
Rick looked at her tanned physique, the way the light shimmered in places off her lotioned flesh. Tried to remember it for later. Less that 15% cloud cover. The late afternoon, not-yet-evening light that caught the waves at an angle just before cresting, and shimmered off her flesh.
The sands blew gently on a moderate breeze; just enough to keep the sting of the summer heat at bay, as if counting away the lazy infinite seconds that a place like the shack could afford.
"What are you thinking, Ricky?"
I'm thinking about how you look, how all of this looks, for when I have my oils out later, and a fresh canvas in front of me.
Except you can't say that. It's weird. Becky's also a little too basic for that to be a response.
"Ricky..?"
Well, maybe. I mean, give her a little credit. People might surprise you.
"I guess I'm just thinking about how good this all looks, and thinking about painting it later."
She gasped. "You paint? I mean... I knew you paint, but you paint here too? In your free time? I thought that was just stuff you did for school."
He smiled politely. As the closed-mouthed smile kept him polite. And his mouth closed.
Excitement took over her. "Oh, you've got to show me Ricky!" And after some begging and pleading and false modesty on his end, they walked back to his beachside shack which was left to him by the dead grandfather he never met, where he would sit her down and show her a few of his more recent attempts from here. Without the other girls in them. Although honestly, it mightn't make much difference...
He produced a few of his more recent efforts. Including an impressionist effort to capture the dappled light off the shore and the swirl of the swell rising to the fine spray of an evening mist.
"Oh..."
She sounded disappointed.
"Well... I have other's. That's from when I was working through some impressionist stuff, and trying to experiment with--"
"Well, if you're asking me my opinion..."
Wasn't. But go ahead anyway.
"I guess my impressionist is that it doesn't really look like the thing that you were tring to paint."
Rick laughed spontaneously at her joke, which caught him so well off guard.
Then he saw she still had a straight face.
A very straight face.
Oh Becky... No...
"Impressionism is an art style. I was-- trying to do a thing. Anyway, sounds like you might like something a bit more... realism... Landscapes. Have a few in here..."
He handed her a smaller canvas that had a fine brush landscape immediately recognisable as the shack with the beach and surf in the background.
Then in his haste to produce more slice of life artwork that might take her fancy, he failed to suitably filter the art and handed her another from last year when he brought Lauren from that Theatre group down here. Wait, was it Lauren? Laura..? No, Layla? Oh this is bad, Rick... you're bringing that many down you're losing track of the names now? It hasn't even been that man-- no. It was definitely Laura. Laura or Layla. Laura sounds right though.
Well, it's gone pretty quiet. You should probably say something. Or-- you know-- at least make eye contact.
OK. Here goes. Pick our eyes up off the floor. Knees. Wow, she's got good legs. Pity you messed this all up. OK, keep going up. Eye contact, we're gonna be doing eye contact and three, two, there it i--
She was looking at him and biting her lip.
"I have a bit of a naughty idea, Ricky..."
"...maaaybe, it'd be fun if you painted me."
"Well there's nothing naughty about--"
The two piece swimsuit became a one piece as the top half hit the floor, with the conspiratorial promisary look of even less to come.
"I'm gonna go get my paints..." He walked quickly out of the room towards his art supplies, before hastening his pace to a frantic frenzy as soon as he was out of view.
Paints... Gotta find paints. Grab a canvas. Paints. There!
Then he raised his head and considered possible outcomes from the direction things had been taking.
Rubbers... Gotta find rubbers.
He scrambled across the room and started going through a set of drawers in desperation. He opened drawers and grasped around blindly hoping to find a familiar square wrapper.
...and instead his hand found a different kind of plastic. Taped to the underside of the drawer above. One of the drawers had a false bottom, but whatever this was hadn't been returned carefully enough and plastic still protruded.
He pulled the drawer out further and pulled on the plastic just to find a baggie containing dozens of small pills.
"Oh Gramps... what were you into? What is this, E? Viagra?"
He drew one of the small pills from the bag and held it up to the light. They were stamped with a marking he hadn't seen adorning pills before.
A single hourglass.
"Ricky..?!?" He heard Becky call out to him from areas unseen. Presumably in a state of undress unseen.
He dropped the pill in the bag and threw it back in the drawer. Back to the task at hand, there'd be time for... whatever that was... later.
H O U R M A N H O U R M A N
Now...
There was no time for dalliance. This was the Hour of Chaos. And as he felt the surge as more and more Miraclo surged throgh his blood stream, it would be an hour of power.
As Kobra had looked to seize an entire sporting arena, seemingly eager to rapidly increase their number beyond what had been creeping growth for the cult, the J.S.A had stormed through in response in familiar style. With Rick dropping from S.T.R.I.P.E like a bomb. First point of contact. The tip of the spear.
Kobra cultists converged. This was not an enemy which would sit and wait and attack in ones or two. A mass of humanity converged on him.
But not enough to overwhelm the heavy hitter.
Blasts launched from S.T.R.I.P.E as cover for the secondary point of contact. Stargirl swept through, with green blasts from the augmented cosmic rod that Ted Knight had recently provided her with, to better attune to her sensibilities. She landed and began striking at the cultists who splintered from her Miraclo juiced teammate, as two more were sent sailing by heavy punches.
Sanderson Hawkins landed near homeplate, and with a smile quickly took control of the environment. Kobra members sank up to their necks in the dirt. He threw a wave of dirt across the ball park, staggering a morass of humanity and throwing out whatever little order they had left.
The left field lights suddenly cut out, and Doctor Midnight made good use of their discombobulated order, with blackout bombs and well timed kicks, attacking the fringes. She called Dugan to, and the pair worked on driving them across, controlling the brawling mass with a semblance of order.
Stargirl took to the skies again, and made a sweeping run, giving the pack little chance to regain control, as green blasts further kept them off balance.
Sandy, changed tactics from the broad, to the more focused. Using dirt waves to sweep across and clear the right field side, giving Kobra nowhere to run to and nowhere to hide. Collapsing their attack and converging it back to the middle, where Hourman was still wading through their ever-present numbers like he was back at the shack and waiting to hop on the perfect wave.
They were herding Kobra like sheep. Dispatch enough of their numbers, knock as many as they could out. Maybe some of these ones would take to the attempts to remove the brainwashing. It had been tricky, they used chemical psychotropics and some kind of drug that Beth hadn't yet been able to isolate, in addition to the age-old and time tested brainwashing techniques from other cults down the years. But, if nothing else, they'd add no more to their numbers today. Left field and right field started to converge into a singular column. Stargirl took to the skies once more.
But they had forgotten about the bullpen. And Kobra had brought one Hell of a reliever.
A single blast, a flash of plasma, stopped time. Halted breath. Changed everything.
"--Courtney!" Cried out the mechanical voice of S.T.R.I.P.E, momentarily losing track of keeping to codenames in the field.
The Stargirl fell.
Kobra fell all around as Rick exploded upon them with a surge of Miraclo-infused rage.
"Sandy. Clean up. I'm taking that weapon off the field. Clear a path for S.T.R.I.P.E."
Rick sprinted to the bullpen and kicked the door in, which blasted through and took out three Kobra men lending support to the plasma rifle unit. They fired the weapon at him, it knocked him off balance, blasting him into a wall. But with gritted teeth he pushed through and the area was soon cleared.
He dragged Kobra cultists out, three-to-a-hand, to the field proper to join the rest of their ilk.
The rest of his team had taken down the remaining Kobra scurge. Pat Dugan had left his robotic power-suit behind and now knelt over his step-daughter, holding her in his arms and visibly weeping. Sandy had raised dirt waves up to turn the ballpark into a contained bowl, to keep the personal moment and private identities away from the prying eyes and cameras which had anticipated a very different evening of excitement.
"Doc?" Sandy asked Beth, the team's resident physician. With the implication of asking whether anything could be done.
Beth solemnly shook her head. She'd had a good angle on the shot. The fact that the plasma had burnt an exit wound through the back of Stargirl's uniform that was visible as Pat held her was not a good sign.
"Plasma rifle, straight to the vitals. Scorched right through. Her eyes were open, but she was probably gone before she ever even hit the ground." The doctor uttered. It was overly clinical, but delivered with the intention of providing some small hope of a silver lining of having not had the time to significantly suffer.
Whilst Pat held her and sobbed uncontrollably, Rick watched their former teammate's face and cocked his head to one side. A single eyebrow raised in curiosity.
"Uhh Beth--? You'd know better than me... how long does rigor usually take to set in?"
A less than sensitive question given the circumstances at hand. But not without merit. Her jaw had seemed to tighten in the few moments since passing. And the skin's colour was shifting pallor very quickly, given how recently the blood would have stopped circulating.
Pat turned to scowl at the crude question, but Doctor Midnight pulled him up before his indignation was given voice.
"He's got a point, Pat. Look! What's happened to the side of her mask?"
Pat lay Courtney down on the infield grass, and looked at what she was referring to. A bulge had begun to form on the side of her head. With great care, Dugan pulled back the mask to reveal the fresh bulge.
Just to find an ear that clearly never belonged to Courtney.
"He's not the only one with a point." Sanderson said, referring to the ear. Pat scowled.
"Look, I was kept in a state of suspended animation for literally decades... sometimes I fall short on the social cues. Ok?" He justified his ill-timed joke.
They looked back at the body of the fallen 'Stargirl', the skin hadn't merely gone translucent. It had taken on a clear green shade. And her previously tightening jaw now revealed clearly defined ridge folds, vertically upon her chin.
Nobody was joking now.
The atmosphere turned thick as the present moment washed all over them.
C H A R A C T E R S U M M A R Y C H A R A C T E R S U M M A R Y
_________________________________________________________ Francis "Frank" Castle Charles Forte _________________________________________________________ Grocery Store Manager | N/A _________________________________________________________ Multiverse 668 (Prime) | Closed (for now)
C H A R A C T E R N O T E S C H A R A C T E R N O T E S
P O S T C A T A L O G ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ ◼ ISSUE #1: WE DON'T SELL THAT HERE ◼ ISSUE #2: THE NEIGHBORS ◼ ISSUE #3: ANOTHER DAY ◼ ISSUE #4: CHARLES FORTE RIDES, AGAIN? -
... FRANK CASTLE RETIRED AFTER AVENGING HIS FAMILY? Frank Castle had a good life. He had a loving wife, two daughters, a good job as a vice detective in the NYPD. He saw the worst of people in that job, but his family carried him through it, reminding him that there was still good in the world. Six years ago, Frank shut down a drug running operation helmed by the Saint mafia family and killed the family's heir, Bobby Saint, in the process. Needless to say, the head of the family, Howard Saint, wasn't very happy with this.
Two weeks later, the Castles were killed by a car bomb, with Frank as the only survivor. Frank swore revenge, embarking on a one man war against the Saints, tearing apart their operations and killing prominent members of the family. He came to be known as the Punisher, an unstoppable killing machine that was swiftly and brutally ripping a hole into the fabric of NYC's criminal underworld. At the end of his crusade, he held a gun to Howard Saint's head and pulled the trigger. Frank had half a mind to put the gun to his own head after that, but some part of him held onto the hope that he could still be saved. That there was still something to live for.
On that day, Frank Castle died.
Six months later, a man named Charles Forte walked into Greene's Groceries asking for a job.
For the past five years, Charles Forte has lived a good life. He has a little dog named Chip and a good job at Greene's Groceries. He sees a lot of people everyday, the best of them he hopes. But pretty soon, the worst will rear their ugly heads.
P L O T ( S ) & G O A L ( S ) P L O T ( S ) & G O A L ( S )
It's been a minute since I've played The Punisher in one of these games and I've wanted to revisit my idea of a retired Frank since the last time I did it. Hopefully, this time it won't bomb. While I'm placing Frank in the prime multiverse, I don't plan on taking a big part in the Skrull invasion due to Frank being a more street level character and my own lack of knowledge on that particular part of Marvel lore.
At the start, I plan to be self contained, telling the story of Frank's return to vigilantism after a gang intrudes upon his neighborhood and begins to terrorize it. After my initial arc, I will be open to collaborating with other players and getting up to all sorts of hijinks.
*Keep clicking hider tags*
"I know there's a Detective Chimp app somewhere in here, goddamn it!"
MAGIK 🌣 🌣 🌣 CONSTANTINE 🌣 🌣 🌣 THE HOOD SUPREME🌣 🌣 🌣 ZATANNA 🌣 🌣 🌣 BLADE ♦ Magically Various ♦ Midnight Sons ♦ Multiverse 668 - Prime
W H A T I F...?:
“...The Hood sacrificed everything to stop an evil Sorcerer Supreme?
Doctor Steven Strange was never humbled out of his egoistical edge even after he broke his fingers in that car accident that ruined his career as a surgeon. In his quest to find a cure, he finds the Ancient One who refuses to cure his hands. Bitter, Strange then encounters Mordo and pledges to assist in killing the Ancient One in exchange for a cure. The tutelage of Mordo in the magical arts leads to Strange excelling leading to the pair killing the Ancient One.
With their common enemy out of the way, Strange, in a move to try and gain more power, betrays Mordo to obtain the Ancient One’s power in order to become the Sorcerer Supreme. With his power he becomes a tyrant in the mystical arts, finding ways to steal power from other practitioners and coveting every magical artifact. There would be no hope if Strange continued but an unlikely player would give up everything to stop Strange. Enter The Hood.
Up to this point, Parker Robbins has had the same life leading him to become The Hood. His father died, his mother comatose, he reverted to crime to make his wealth and with one of his heists leading him into obtaining his signature occult artifacts. In a bid to stop him, The Hood makes a dark pact with Dormammu to give him the power to defeat Strange at the cost of his soul to become a vessel of Dormammu’s possession. The Hood defeats the Sorcerer Supreme as planned but exploits a clause in his pact to avoid giving his soul to Dormammu: “By next Midnight, you’re soul will be mine.”
In the previous possession of Steven Strange, the Time Stone has become the very artifact that Parker relies on to avoid his possession. Just before the clock strikes midnight, he reverses time on himself to one minute after midnight on the same day. Time goes on around him but he must constantly revert his day back to the beginning, sparing him possession but sacrificing himself all the same with his memory being reverted.
Time has lost all meaning to Parker Robbins and at some point and the days blend together. In one of those days, John Constantine, his best friend and original guide into the occult, must have visited him in Sanctum and their discussion must have been productive because the Midnight Sons was formed. Utilizing the Sanctum, the Midnight Sons operate to help protect the new Sorcerer Supreme and the mystical items kept in the Sanctum Sanctorum.
P L O T ( S ) & G O A L ( S ):
So I stumbled upon this RP and thought of some twist on a character that I could play. The Hood was originally appealing and specifically to take him from starting as a villain to redeeming himself to become a hero. Since it plays more into the mysticism aspect, I decided that Sorcerer Supreme would be a good angle for him, but then I thought what if it came at a cost?
The cinematic universe presented an idea with the time stone, specifically the idea of being stuck in a time loop. Looping a single day over and over again would be very interesting play, but he’d be limited in engagement since his memory doesn’t carry over. so I thought he’d have a small crew to help him operate. I picked a few good mystical characters from DC and Marvel to form the backbone of the mystical side for this RP.
C H A R A C T E R N O T E S:
Steven Strange may be dead in 668, but there is plenty of potential for another Steven coming from somewhere. Any other mystical characters I’d like to get involved with should others propose them. Ultimately, I should be able to jump into plots that others do fairly easily as well.
@Hound55 I'm still here. It's been a very busy week but I should be done with my sheet tomorrow.
How we going with that sheet?
Don't feel too bad, I've been taking the week to do general RP maintenance, getting track of numbers and activity moving forward.
I'm working Monday this week, but that aside, I should have a good amount of time to get things back on track this week.
Once we get the sheet, I'll flip you the Discord link, work on getting the entrance post done, gather up pieces by the other writers and yourself for that post, and hopefully look to start building momentum again, now that Christmas and New Years are in the rearview.
C H A R A C T E R S U M M A R Y C H A R A C T E R S U M M A R Y
_________________________________________________________ Rick Tyler _________________________________________________________ Unemployed - Aspiring Artist | Justice Society of America _________________________________________________________ Multiverse 668 - Prime | JSA is... Open
C H A R A C T E R N O T E S C H A R A C T E R N O T E S
T H E D R U G - M I R A C L O ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ ► The people who have been known as 'Hourman' have done so by taking the drug, Miraclo. Invented by chemist Rex Tyler, Miraclo provides its user with immense strength, durabilty, speed, agility and endurance enhancements for one hour. At the conclusion of this hour the waste toxins generated by the body are naturally eliminated from the bloodstream in a process that lasts twenty-three hours.
Rex Tyler, later in his career, began to alter the drug so that the active ingredients would only allow the drug to function if the user possessed twenty genetic markers unique to Rex's DNA sequencing, in an attempt to make the pills useless to anyone who wasn't him.
It has since become apparent that seven of the specific genetic markers he chose to use are shared by his grandson Rick, and were enough to activate the drug, albeit in a limited capacity.
The current Miraclo pills Rick takes do not possess that same significant limitation, but whilst his current pills are not perfectly matched to suit his own body's chemistry, they are slightly less effective than his grandfather's were. -
J . S . A . T E A M & A S S O R T E D N O T E S J . S . A . T E A M & A S S O R T E D N O T E S
O R I G I N A L J . S . A . ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ Alan Scott - The Green Lantern Jay Garrick - The Flash Ted Grant - Wildcat Kent Nelson - Doctor Fate The Spectre Ted Knight - Starman Carter Hall - Hawkman Rex Tyler - Hourman Al Pratt - The Atom Prince Namor The Sub-Mariner Wesley Dodds - The Sandman Elizabeth "Libby" Lawrence - Liberty Belle Charles McNider - Doctor Mid-Nite Johnny Chambers - Johnny Quick Dinah Drake - Black Canary Terry Sloane - Mister Terrific Jeff Mace - The Patriot Robert Frank - The Whizzer Madeline Joyce - Miss America Bruce Dickson - The Thin Man The Red Raven Jack Frost Professor Elton Morrow - Blue Diamond John Sargent - Sargon the Sorcerer Larry Jordan - Air Wave Johnny Thunder Sandra Knight - The Phantom Lady -
C U R R E N T J . S . A . ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ Rick Tyler - Hourman Sanderson Hawkins - Sandman Beth Chapel - Doctor Midnight Courtney Whitmore - Stargirl (Pending @DocTachyon app) Ted Grant - Wildcat Pat Dugan - S.T.R.I.P.E -
J . S . A . N O T E S ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ ► The J.S.A. is less an individual unit or fighting force, and more a network of likeminded heroic types, with a loose affiliation who will collaborate to take down threats, villainous types and thwart crimes.
Some have closer relationships than others and are more likely to engage in team ups, like any group.
As such there's a far smaller fairly regular 'core' whilst others might throw their hands in when time or the situation permits.
All are united in a common motivation though, and the name J.S.A has meaning for all who have ever been a part of it in any capacity. -
C H A R A C T E R C O N C E P T C H A R A C T E R C O N C E P T
________________________________________________________________________________________ WHAT IF THE SUPER SOLDIER SERUM CHANGED HOW BIOCHEMISTRY WAS VIEWED BY THE PUBLIC INDELIBLY?
Rick Tyler is the grandson of the original JSA Hero Hourman.
This present JSA is comprised of legacies (and potentially small cameo appearances by...) the original WWII and beyond era team.
It was an "open secret" that the original Hourman was Rex Tyler.
He very much enjoyed the his playboy superstardom and lifestyle that was afforded to him as a highly prominent wartime chemist and moonlighting hero.
Actions have consequences.
P L O T ( S ) & G O A L ( S ) P L O T ( S ) & G O A L ( S )
I'll be fleshing out the modern JSA. There'll be flashbacks to ye olde JSA. And connections in between.
The listed modern JSA is not the full squad. There were also a few extra members post-WWII in the old JSA (Yes. Even more than that bloated monstrosity of a team list on the left).
If anyone wants to play any character listed, whether they want anything to do with what I'm doing or not, just give me a heads up. I'm very flexible to change, I mainly just want to know that I can depend on the set characters I have in mind being there ONCE THE IC ACTUALLY GOES UP and I start to solidify the backstory stuff in my mind.
Plot names and descriptions will be added here as things solidify.
H O U R M A N F A M I L Y H I S T O R Y H O U R M A N F A M I L Y H I S T O R Y
As World War II waged on, and the United States joined the front after the events of Pearl Harbour, all hands were on the task of the war effort, looking for whatever edge they could provide.
The SSR's "Super Soldier Program", headed by Doctor Abraham Erskine sought to create a new breed of super soldiers, altering a man's fundamental makeup through a thorough precise combination of vita rays and a chemical serum.
Elsewhere private industries such as Bannerman Chemical put their efforts to similar minded projects. Government grants and exemptions from the draft were issued to these frontline scientists. The scientific frontier became possibly the most important frontier in this global war, but not the only one the increasingly desperate Nazi leadership sought.
A young chemist with an adventurous streak, Rex Tyler, developed a new drug compound which he named Miraclo. The drug would never be announced nor patented however, as Rex (who's brash adventurous streak saw him test the drug on himself, in the rush to discovery in the hyper competitive market environment) was shocked at the effect of the drug which saw possibly even more dramatic effects to the user's strength and durability than even Erskine's method - albeit under more temporary and volatile conditions.
But his adventurous streak also saw him put his discovery to an alternate use...
Rex Tyler scrapped that method as a public project, but began on others. Developing more effective sulfa tablets for frontline medical use, 'stimulant' pills to contend with Nazis recent innovation of amphetamine usage, gas decontamination pills (which when news of their discovery was leaked, and their effects embellished, became a key propaganda tool in lessening German use of chlorine and mustard gas compared with the first World War.
During this time, an assortment of strange and mysterious figures put their lives and abilities on the line to protect the Homefront from fifth columnists, Nazi saboteurs and a new breed of strange and creepy ne'erdowells that seemed to be cropping up in these trying times. A silhouette seen disappearing in plumes of gas, a man faster than you could imagine, rings and rods of power... joined by a man capable of immense strength and power, for an hour at a time.
And in the other twenty-three hours, Rex Tyler became a major scientific figure for the era, and with so many able bodied men overseas at war, was one of the most eligible bachelors remaining on American soil. He frequently travelled between New York and California, where between talks at USC, CalTech and UCLA universities he'd often be seen on the red carpet at some rising starlet's arm or another in the Golden Age of Hollywood.
It became an open secret that Rex Tyler, whose movements and schedule seemed to match those of the Hourman, and had taken to being introduced as 'The Man Of The Hour' at social gatherings and soirees held in both New York and California, as he revelled in the notoriety and lifestyle which it had brought him.
Until questions began to get raised about why these fit, fighting men were being kept at home, whilst so many of the boys were dying on foreign shores. Were these men draft dodgers? There was some speculation that these questions were being pushed by the lead industry, as Rex had raised concerns about the widespread use of lead in paint and even petroleum in university lectures.
Eager to not be seen as cowardly men, it was Rex Tyler and the Atom, Al Pratt, who were most ardent that the group take their talents to the Front.
First the government tried to claim Miraclo for their own purposes, but were satistfactorily chastened after a demonstration of what just six men on the chemical compound were capable of, and a stern lecture from the Man of the Hour that the biggest threat to freedom wasn't that the drug not be introduced to the war effort... but rather if it should somehow find its way into the wrong hands and be reverse engineered, with the German's ability to mass produce pharmaceuticals... and what of Russia afterwards? At this point they already had a significant numbers advantage and were steadily encroaching upon Berlin.
But there was still a task that these fine young men and women of the JSA would be able to lend their skills to...
That other desperate frontier that the Nazis sought to exploit was the occult. Whether it had actual merit, or if it would merely make a fine propaganda boon to crush the faint hopes of the Nazis, there was a mission for this group of men and women who had begun to be known as part of the wider Justice Society of America.
Whilst the Howling Commandos and other Allied troops were steadily marching towards Berlin, the Nazis were making a desperate grab for an artefact that was known as the Spear of Destiny. An item that reportedly could imbue invincibility upon its wielder.
The JSA were put to task and whisked to Scandinavia in a race for the object.
In which they were victorious.
The hopes of the hun were squashed. The fine Allied men continued their march on Berlin unabated and victory was won.
And Rex's playboy lifestyle went into overdrive...
In 1960, young Austin Tyler, born to stage actress Wendi Harris would grow to barely know his father.
And when he was old enough to, he wouldn't want to. He'd seen enough.
An absent father who was all about his own selfish drive for adventure and the frivolity which came with such a life.
He took the scraps he was left with... the name of being his father's son, to the University scene where hard work and another powerful drive, albeit focused on other things than his playboy father, would see him pick up a doctorate in chemistry and degrees in business management.
Through shrewd investment and a network of subsidiaries he would seize the board and ownership of Bannerman Chemical, and renamed it TylerCo Petrochemical and Pharmaceuticals. A feat his father would never achieve. He gave a lengthy speach before the media about how his father had worked there, how his devotion to the work and his country had forged this post-war nation, and a bunch of other crap he didn't really mean nor care for.
He was forging his own path. This was his hour. And he would use it to accomplish that which his father never could, nor even had the sense or drive to.
In early 2000, Richard Tyler was born to Austin and Janice Tyler.
Austin attempted to push his son into the family business, but like father like son, Richard Tyler rejected that plan. Going so far as to flunk out of high school chemistry after two different incidents involving an explosion, and the creation of chlorine gas. The following donation to the high school Science department was appreciated but still insufficient.
Richard goes by the monosyllabic 'Rick', which is far too close to 'Rex' for his father's comfort.
He's a talented young artist, but a self-professed 'beach bum'. He's often found at a beachside shack left for him by the grandfather he never met, now long deceased, with some co-ed or another. Much to his father's chagrin or horror.
So there I am, in Sri Lanka, formerly Ceylon, at about 3 o'clock in the morning, looking for one thousand brown M&Ms to fill a brandy glass, or Ozzy wouldn't go on stage that night. So, Jeff Beck pops his head 'round the door, and mentions there's a little sweets shop on the edge of town. So - we go. And - it's closed. So there's me, and Keith Moon, and David Crosby, breaking into that little sweets shop, eh. Well, instead of a guard dog, they've got this bloody great big Bengal tiger. I managed to take out the tiger with a can of mace, but the shopowner and his son... that's a different story altogether. I had to beat them to death with their own shoes. Nasty business, really. But, sure enough, I got the M&Ms, and Ozzy went on stage and did a great show.
<div style="white-space:pre-wrap;">So there I am, in Sri Lanka, formerly Ceylon, at about 3 o'clock in the morning, looking for one thousand brown M&Ms to fill a brandy glass, or Ozzy wouldn't go on stage that night. So, Jeff Beck pops his head 'round the door, and mentions there's a little sweets shop on the edge of town. So - we go. And - it's closed. So there's me, and Keith Moon, and David Crosby, breaking into that little sweets shop, eh. Well, instead of a guard dog, they've got this bloody great big Bengal tiger. I managed to take out the tiger with a can of mace, but the shopowner and his son... that's a different story altogether. I had to beat them to death with their own shoes. Nasty business, really. But, sure enough, I got the M&Ms, and Ozzy went on stage and did a great show.</div>
Cyberlad
Qia
Half Pint
Festive
mickilennial
AndyC
Sep
Roman
Rockette
Lord Wraith
